


your deep mouth and its delights

by skippyvontom



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, no happy ending. sorry kids.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-27
Updated: 2012-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-12 08:36:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7928038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skippyvontom/pseuds/skippyvontom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>demon possession is a bitch</p>
<p>Best read whilst listening to Mikky Ekko's "Who Are You Really?", just FYI. Because musical inspiration is a CRUEL MISTRESS.</p>
<p>Not to mention herein lie shamelessly pilfered Pablo Neruda quotes and a prime example of drabble!fail. I'll get you one day, 100 words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	your deep mouth and its delights

“What the hell _are_ you?” Derek asks.

The _thing_ in Stiles’ body laughs. Its answer spews forth with a wet , sloppy gurgle around the hole Derek clawed in its chest as easy as breathing: instinct or self-preservation or revenge, even he can’t tell for sure. Just like he can’t remember why he’d decided to follow Stiles into the forest in the first place, scant minutes ago. Back when everything still made _sense_.

“Oh, this one _fought_ me, every step of the way. So in love, so desperate to be _needed_. You should be proud, Alpha. If the human you all ignore is willing to die fighting for you, we’re going to have such _fun_ wiping your whole pathetic pack out of existence.”

It continues to laugh, a creaky, mocking echo filling the clearing, even as Derek grinds his shoe into the tendons of its left wrist, muscle and sinew audibly snapping until the cell phone tumbles to the leaves beneath. Derek can hear the drone of a dial tone, and he knows it’s too late to stop whatever’s coming.

“He cried for you, you know. Every second, of every day, he was _begging_ you to save him. But you can’t save anyone. Can you, Derek.”

Derek shakes his head, slowly at first but faster and faster as the full horror of the situation beings to sink in, as Stiles’ blood mats in his hair and dries in sticky trails down his arm.

“I’ll see you soon,” the thing says, grinning a bright red smile. Then the unnatural amber light in Stiles’ eyes sputters and blinks out, his body flopping back down to the forest floor with a flat noise like a dream collapsing.

Derek doesn’t move until sunrise, when those eyes light up again with the first rays of morning.


End file.
